


sit back and enjoy

by hrrybb, julgru



Series: yes homo [1]
Category: One Direction (Band), Radio 1 RPF
Genre: M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Semi-Public Sex, Sex Toys, Sexual Content, Slight Slight Non-con Element, crack!fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-19
Updated: 2015-01-19
Packaged: 2018-03-08 06:36:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3199133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hrrybb/pseuds/hrrybb, https://archiveofourown.org/users/julgru/pseuds/julgru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Hey, I’ve got a surprise for you,” Harry says as they break apart. Nick notices how glossy Harry’s eyes look, pupils blown wide, and Nick regrets not following him into the shower. Pig could have waited another twenty minutes, surely. </p>
<p>“Yeah? Whas’sit?” Nick asks, fingers digging into Harry’s side. </p>
<p>“You’ve got to feel it yourself,” Harry answers, and gets that mischievous look in his eyes only Harry can manage. He guides Nick’s hands to his arse, and Nick squeezes it on pure autopilot. “Feel it?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	sit back and enjoy

**Author's Note:**

> so basically this started out as a screaming-at-each-other tumblr conversation between me and rylie. I then suggested this thing and rylie talked me into writing this, so the blame is not all mine. also, special thank you to [nina](http://nopunchesplease.tumblr.com/) for looking this through for us. we love you x
> 
> also one more thing, this is a CRACKFIC. it's supposed to be FUNNY. it's fake, it'll always be fake, it's not real, and it's super weird. but it's FAKE. and a JOKE. 
> 
> well then. here we go. #NORAGRETS

“Should I bring the red scarf or the black and white one?”

“Black and white.”

Harry is making omelettes, listing things Nick has to remind him to pack. The clock reads eleven AM on a Saturday, and Harry is leaving for LA in one hour. One simple hour. It’s not nearly enough time. Ever.

They’ve had a lazy lie in all morning, and Nick intends to continue that way. Which is why they flop down on the couch with their tea just after they’ve eaten, and Nick sucks Harry off sloppily while a re-run of The Voice is playing in the background. It’s good, it always is with Harry.

“I’m just gonna take a quick shower before I leave,” Harry says after some time, getting up from the couch. Nick nods and turns the telly off; he’s got things to do himself. He takes Pig for a walk around the park, letting her run free and throwing some sticks for her to catch. When he gets back, he cleans out the kitchen, washing their dirty breakfast plates and teacups.

Harry comes out of the bedroom as Nick is rearranging the pillows on the sofas, his big bag slung over his shoulder. He looks stupidly gorgeous; hair still a bit damp at the top, face flushed, wearing his signature black skinny jeans and a purple, patterned shirt. He smiles at Nick and puts the bag on the floor in the middle of the living room, looking soft and inviting. Nick walks up to him, grabbing his hips to pull him closer. Harry immediately leans in for a kiss, just pressing their lips together and threading his fingers through the hair at the base of Nick’s neck.

“Hey, I’ve got a surprise for you,” Harry says as they break apart. Nick notices how glossy Harry’s eyes look, pupils blown wide, and Nick regrets not following him into the shower. Pig could have waited another twenty minutes, surely.

“Yeah? Whas’sit?” Nick asks, fingers digging into Harry’s side.

“You’ve got to feel it yourself,” Harry answers, and gets that mischievous look in his eyes only Harry can manage. He guides Nick’s hands to his arse, and Nick squeezes it on pure autopilot. “Feel it?”

“Yes, I do quite feel it. It’s your arse.”

“No, not that. It’s-” Harry says and guides Nick’s fingers closer to his hole, gasping just as Nick feels something solid between his cheeks. Nick doesn’t get it for a second, when- well. Fuck.

A couple months ago Harry suggested that they get some sex toys, for when Harry was away. Nick wasn’t quite sure why at first; they are horrible at phone sex and sexting isn’t really Nick’s thing, but Harry talked him into it. It resulted in ordering a cock ring, a blindfold, and well, a vibrating butt plug.

They’ve only used the cock ring once before, when Harry was in Paris and Nick made him wear it when he least expected it. It’s a pretty basic model, red silicone, which looks so good on Harry’s cock, especially when he’s been hard and desperate for a long while. The blindfold, well, it’s a blindfold. Silky and black, almost scarf looking. They’ve not used it, mostly because Nick is terrified that Harry’s going to mistake it for an actual scarf and wear it out in public. Nick can’t imagine what’d happen if someone recognised it, if someone saw what it really was.

The butt plug is also made of silicone, long and sleek, slightly bent at the tip. The bottom is flat, so it’d be discreet and wearable in public, as the website promised. It comes with a black wireless remote control with eleven different buttons, ten with different functions and speeds, as well an on/off button. They’ve never tried it before. Well, until now.

“Fuck,” Nick breathes and rubs his fingers over Harry’s jeans, almost massaging the plug. Harry’s eyes flutter and he let’s out a little sigh, before looking back up at Nick.

“Is it okay, uh, can I. Can I wear it?” He asks, his voice so low Nick almost misses it. “I mean, I checked it in the mirror before. You can’t really- it’s not visible.”

“Yeah, fuck.” Nick almost wants to rip off Harry’s clothes right where they stand, but if it’s one thing he’s had to learn while being with Harry, it’s self control. He’s getting rather good at it.

“I, um. I left the remote here. If you want to, you know,” Harry says, biting his lips. Nick’s cock twitches in his joggers embarrassingly. Maybe he needs to improve his self control a bit more after all.

Harry’s phone pings; alerting him that his car has arrived, and Harry rolls his eyes. He pulls away from Nick’s body anyway, telling him he’s going to get the last things in Nick’s bedroom. Nick nods and picks up Harry’s bag, carrying it to the door where he later kisses Harry goodbye one last time, squeezing his arse for good measure.

With Harry gone, Nick hasn’t got any more plans for the day. He stays in his flat, messing around on his laptop and playlists. He gets a call from his mum telling him they’re on their way down to London for a distant relative’s birthday and want to come visit. Nick agrees and promises to have have tea ready when they arrive, and coffee for his dad, of course.

-

The kettle clicks off the exact moment Nick hears a knock on the door. “It’s open! Just come in,” he shouts and reaches for three mugs in the cabinet. He greets his parents in the hall, hugging his mum tightly.

“Hiya, love,” Eileen says, kissing his cheek. Nick pulls back before saying hi to his dad, embracing him briefly.

“Kettle’s just done. Want to sit in the kitchen or living room?”

“Kitchen’s fine, dear. Pete wants to watch footie, so I think it’s better if we leave him to it,” Eileen says, shrugging off her coat. She’s wearing one of her oldest outfits, a plum, knee length dress that Nick can remember her buying when he was just a mere teenager. It makes him strangely calm and happy, nostalgic almost.

“Of course. I bought a new channel box, you use the black remote,” Nick says, heading into the kitchen to make their tea. Eileen comes in and helps him, while Pete disappears into the lounge at once, declining the offer of tea.

It’s not long before Nick can hear his dad huffing in annoyance, all the way from the living room. “Nick, you need to change battery on your bleeding remote,” Pete’s voice comes, making Nick roll his eyes.

“Don’t be stupid, I used it this morning.”

“Well, it’s not bleeding working, that’s for sure,” Pete mutters, almost inaudible to the kitchen. Eileen raises her eyebrows, looking at Nick.

“Are you sure you’re using the right one?” Nick says, taking another sip of his tea. “It’s the black one, like I said.”

“You’ve got three fucking black remotes! How am I going to know which one’s which?” Pete exclaims. Nick freezes. “I’m going to miss the fucking game.”

But. He’s not got three remotes. He’s got two. One for the TV and one for the cable box. One black and one darker grey. “Calm down, love,” Nick hears his mum say, but Nick’s too deep in his thoughts to register it. He gets out of this chair and rushes into the living room, where Pete is brutally pushing every button on the poor remote. Which. Nick doesn’t remember putting that remote there. It’s-

Wait.

-

Heathrow isn’t very crowded when Harry gets there, barely any paps or fans that ask for pictures at all. He is led through the back to where his plane is waiting, separated from the rest of the planes.

They take off on time without any bigger hassle, barely any turbulence at all. Harry picks out his earphones and journal from his carry-on, trying to entertain himself for a while. He clicks on a random playlist and starts to scribble in his little book, something that looks a bit camera-ish before writing a few lines and repeating.

When the playlist ends and everything goes quiet a while later, he has drawn almost an entire page with phrases, words and symbols. He takes out his ear plugs and reaches for his book he’s reading, sinking down further into his seat. He can’t concentrate though. The plug is a constant reminder of everything; his cock, his arse, Nick. Especially Nick.

God, Nick. His dick gives its best twitch, despite being trapped so tightly in his jeans. Taking a deep breath out of his nose, Harry tries to contain himself. A sudden wave of arousal washes over him, his brain bombarded by images, thoughts, memories. It feels like he’s drowning, all in _Nick_.

Harry’s mind drifts back to June, how excited he had been when Nick asked him to bring the cock ring on the European leg of tour. He was told not to wear it, though, not until Nick was completely sure how it worked and if it was dangerous in any way. Nick was a Responsible Adult after all, acting as if Harry still was a teenager or something.

It had taken a while, weeks before Nick sent him a text with instructions and cautions, what to do and what not to do. Harry was half hard the entire day after that, knowing he’d have to deny himself “to the edge of insanity”, in Nick’s words.

Harry was just about to leave the hotel in Paris for a radio interview with Liam and Zayn, when Nick had called him. It started off as a rather innocent call, asking how the tour was and just basic catching up, until Nick said that he wanted Harry to put on the cock ring, now.

“I can’t. I’m on my way to an interview,” Harry had said, taken off guard by Nick’s request. He knew it was coming, but he couldn’t do it _now_ , could he?

“I know,” Nick had answered, and Harry could hear that Nick was grinning. He fucking knew. “Just thought, if I’m allowed to hear you all desperate, why aren’t other people as well? I mean, it’d be rather selfish of me to not share, right?”

Harry’s breath had hitched, and he felt his face starting to burn. His cock was one hundred percent on Nick’s side though, already starting to fill up. The thought of it was so deliciously humiliating, and Harry wanted all of it.

Nick hung up not long after, encouraging Harry to do as told and deciding a Skype date time, just after Harry had finished his interview. Harry dug out the cock ring from his bag, trembling, and unzipped his jeans. He pulled himself out, not exactly fully hard, and fitted the ring around the base of his cock. It was _tight_ , and Harry couldn’t help himself from starting to stroke his cock. He was rudely interrupted by his phone though; Liam asking where the fuck he was.

The interview had been pure _torture_ , his dick aching and throbbing from being hard for so long. Harry had trouble focusing on the questions, even the ones directed to him. He received a text from Nick in the middle of it, _‘you sound so good love xx’_ , which hit him like a punch in the gut. Apparently he was a bit too obvious, because Zayn had asked him if he’s alright or if he needed some water. Harry had shook his head, probably a bit too enthusiastically, because Zayn side eyed him all the way back to the hotel.

Harry was desperate, sitting in his hotel room, waiting for Nick’s Skype icon to pop up. He remembers the massive wave of relief he felt after scrambling to connect. Nick had been sitting there, hardening cock on full display, and Harry was still fully clothed. How unfair, but he knew he had to wait. Wait for Nick to be done torturing him with _how hot_ and _how good_ he was on air. Wait for Nick to ask him to touch himself. It felt like ages before Harry could properly get a hand around his dick and take the bright red cock ring off, slowly. He began stroking himself with a quickening pace and was basically drooling at the sight of Nick naked. It had been so long since they’d been together in person.

“Are you going to come for me, babe? You’ve been so good. God, you’re always so good for me, Harry,” Nick had gasped out, clearly near his own climax. “Go on, you can come now.”

That last sentence had Harry seeing stars. Shouting out, he curled in on himself and came almost all the way up his chest.

Harry forces himself out of his thoughts as he starts moving his hips in a tiny circle, the solid weight inside him shifting with the movement. It feels amazing, and he continues doing it with more intent. He spreads his legs, clenching down on the plug, and slowly moves a hand down between his thighs. He touches the plug over his jeans but can barely feel it, the seam in the way. He grunts in annoyance and gives up on everything all together, putting down the book next to him. He rests his seat backwards and pulls the little blanket he brought over his body, closing his eyes and tries to relax.

He’s just debating whether he should look into buying the Saint Laurent coat he saw the other day, when he feels the first buzz. He jumps in his seat, wide awake. It’s completely still for a while, until the vibrations begin once again.

They’re intense, almost throbbing, and they come in a _short short short long_ pattern. Harry gasps and digs his fingers into the armrests. It changes quickly, speeding up and vibrating harder with the same pattern. Harry’s hips come off the seat and he clenches down hard on the plug. He can’t help but squirm in his seat, breath coming out in huffs.

The vibe changes pattern again, this time to wave-y sort of thing; gradually gaining speed before slowing down and repeating. It reminds Harry of the Arctic Monkeys album cover, which is perfectly normal to think about while being ruthlessly vibed in the arse.

When the vibration changes for the third time, Harry almost loses it. He’s rock hard and probably leaking onto his jeans, his cock aching from the pressure. He thinks about unzipping his jeans and wanking himself off, but he’s not sure if he should. Nick was rather surprised when Harry had showed him the surprise, even more when Harry told him where the remote was. They hadn’t settled on _do’s_ and _do not’s._

As much as Harry wants to be good, he can barely keep himself from exploding when the vibrations are changing so constantly. It’s like nothing he’s ever felt before: agonizing, but fucking _incredible_ and on a completely new level. He’s panting and trembling, eyes closed and knuckles white from where he is holding onto the armrests.

“Fuck, fucking, _shit_ ,” Harry gasps, trying to escape the plugs relentless buzzing against his prostate. His hips are moving on their own accord, not able to get enough of the delicious pain. His cock is straining against his jeans, he’s so fucking close. Christ.

He had no idea Nick’d be _this_ into it.

-

“Dad!” Nick exclaims. His entire face is burning with embarrassment. “Not that control, gosh. Here you go.”

Nick tears the remote from Pete’s hand and turns it off, giving him the actual cable box control. Pete frowns at him and mutters something quietly, probably about Nick being a diva, and starts the telly. Nick leaves the living room and walks into his bedroom, hiding the remote in his sock drawer. He considers staying in his room forever, not sure if he can face his father ever again.

His parents leave after the footie game is over, and Nick has never been so relieved to be alone again. He doesn’t know what to do though, if he should call Harry or if he should text him, or if he should just act like it didn’t happen.

The day passes rather quickly, Nick getting more and more nervous as the hours goes by. He decides to stay in tonight and tries to blame it on not feeling great when Gillian asks him to join her at the pub. She probably knows he’s lying, but doesn’t mention it. He’s watching some stupid space movie when he looks at the clock and thinks, _‘yeah, he’s landed now.’_

And he has. Ten minutes later Nick’s phone is ringing with the familiar song he’s had for Harry since he got Harry’s number. He swallows before picking up, butterflies in his stomach.

“Hiya, popstar. Di’ you have a good flight?” he tries, attempting to not sound as uptight as he feels.

“Fucking _hell_ , Nick. What was that?”

He doesn’t sound upset, which is a good thing, right? Right. “I’m, yeah. It was-”

“God, you should have been there. That was a-mazing,” Harry says, emphasising the a. “We _have_ to do that again.”

Harry sounds stupidly cheeky and Nick feels a change in the atmosphere, raising his eyebrows even though Harry can’t see. “Yeah? Did you come then?” Nick feels almost like laughing at the entire situation.

“Like, really fucking hard. It was so intense. I’ve _never_ come so hard before,” Harry tells him, and Nick feels a pang of either jealousy or arousal in his gut. Hopefully it’s arousal. Being jealous at one’s dad because they made your partner come harder than you’ve ever done, well, it’s not a feeling Nick quite wants to experience.

“Great. It was my dad.”

The silence is deafening. Nick can’t even hear Harry breathe. It’s like he disappeared from planet earth, having dropped the phone on the floor or something.

“Oh. Okay? God.”

“Yeah. But don’t worry. I’ll better it. Just you wait.”

**Author's Note:**

> hopefully you're not too mentally scarred after this. if you are, we're terribly sorry. we didn't mean to.
> 
> the title comes from freak by klaas & bodybangers. it's a real tune, you should check it out.
> 
> if you want to come chat with us about this horrible experience, here is [my tumblr](http://julgru.tumblr.com/) and here is [rylie's tumblr](http://hrrybb.tumblr.com/). x


End file.
